


The Station

by krycekasks, Queerily_kai



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Building Relationship, Climber!bucky, Discussion of Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multiple Universes, Shrunkyclunks, Soulmates maybe, cap!steve - Freeform, lots of feels, traumatic event, writer!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-30 17:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13956039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krycekasks/pseuds/krycekasks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerily_kai/pseuds/Queerily_kai
Summary: Bucky is a professional climber and writer trying to finish an article.  Steve is trying to avoid the Avengers tower and team  needing a break from it all. Despite recognizing Steve as Captain America from the start, Bucky ignores his superhero identity, and finds himself falling for Steve Rogers, the human.Steve is happy to forget about his public persona, and gets to be himself again, having his first friend since waking from the ice two years previously, and then the first boyfriend who doesn’t have to be a secret.Everything changes in the Alps  when Bucky’ team is caught in an avalanche, and he ends up in a world he never expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for the 2018 ShrunkyClunks Big Bang! Thank you to the amazing @krycekasks for the beautiful art they made for this fic. It's beautiful!!! 
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone in the various slack channels who inspired the crack bunny that grew into this fic, and everyone who beta read and cheered me on. Big thanks to Paalme for doing amazing job as a beta reader and finding all my mistakes. I love you all.
> 
> This fic is complete at 12 chapters, and I will will be posting 4 chapters a day for 3 days, to be completed by Thursday, March 15th.

**August**

Bucky was sitting in a coffee shop, glaring at his laptop when there was a tap on the table at his elbow. He pulled his headphones from his ears and looked up to see a blond man looking down at him. 

“Mind if I share the table with you?” he asked. “Everywhere else is full.”

Bucky glanced around, surprised to see that the place was in fact full. He hadn’t noticed how many people had come in as he worked. 

“Fine with me,” Bucky shrugged, vaguely gesturing to the open seat across from him.

The man set his coffee down, and his bag on the floor, and pulled out a laptop before settling in the chair. 

Bucky put his earbuds back in, and tried to get back to his writing, frequently glancing up at the familiar looking blond across from him. Adorably confused was probably the best description of the man, who spent most of the time staring at his laptop with furrowed eyebrows and a slight frown, occasionally poking at the touchpad or slowly typing with a single finger. Bucky re-read the last paragraph he had written for a third time, and tried to clear the word “adorable” from his mind. He couldn’t focus on anything except trying to remember where he recognized the guy from, and when it hit him, he knew he wasn’t going to get much more done with this man sitting across from him, distracting him without really doing anything. He gave up on his article and pulled up his chat app to message his sister instead.

**Bucky-** _So I’m pretty sure Captain America is sitting across from me right now._

**Rebecca-** _Yeah, ok Buck…_

**Bucky-** _For real, Beccs. I’m at Uncommon Grounds and it’s crowded today. He asked if we could share the table._

**Bucky-** _He looks so sad, and so confused by whatever he’s trying to do on his laptop._

Bucky watched as Rebecca is typing flashed on and off across the bottom of the screen, and imagined his little sister sighing dramatically as she shook her head and struggled to word an insult, clearly not believing what Bucky was telling her. She had reason to doubt though, considering the number of pranks Bucky had pulled on her when they were kids. 

**Rebecca-** _offer to help him then_

**Bucky-** _And say what? Hey old man, is that new fangled technology too complicated for you?_

**Rebecca-** _I don’t have time for your drama today. Some of us have real work to do._

Becca signed off immediately after, her name turning gray on Bucky’s contact list. She probably had a deadline coming up at work, Bucky realized, and figured it would probably be best to leave her alone for a while.

He closed the program with a frown and went back to the article he was trying to write, managing to add most of a sentence before catching himself looking at the man across from him again. He had shifted positions so his elbow was up on the table, chin resting on his fist and looking defeated. 

Bucky paused his music and pulled his earbuds from his ears, looking up across the table. 

“You look about as done with trying to work as I am right now,” Bucky said, pulling the man out of a daze. 

“Huh?” The blond asked, lifting his head to look at Bucky. 

“I said, It doesn’t look like either of us are accomplishing much work here,” Bucky clarified. 

“Oh, yeah…” he said, sitting up straight again, “I mean no, I’ve accomplished nothing since I got here. I thought I understood computers well enough for all this, but I have no idea what i’m even looking at here.”

“Anything I can try to help with?” Bucky asked. “I’m usually pretty good at figuring out new software.”

He just sighed again, bringing his arm back up and resting his head on his hand.  
“That would be amazing, but it’s all classified.” He sounded disappointed.  
“Im sure theres someone back at the office just waiting for me to come back and ask for help.”

Bucky just nodded, not sure how to respond. Captain America was sitting across from him in a coffee shop, looking like he was about to cry over a piece of computer software.

“I just don’t have the experience with computers that everyone else has, not my fault I didn’t grow up with them, but no one lets me even try on my own. They just assume that anything with technology is going to be too overwhelming and confusing for me and just take over. I can’t learn anything like that,” The blond blurted out. He let out a long sigh, blushing slightly at his rant. 

“You hiding then?” Bucky asked, smiling sympathetically. 

“Running away is probably more accurate,” the man admitted. “Though I should probably go back to the office at headquarters.” 

He didn’t move after he finished speaking, continuing to sit slumped over the table across from Bucky, glaring in the general direction of the laptop. 

“Does it have to happen today?” Bucky asked. “Getting help at headquarters?” He shifted his own gaze to glare toward the laptop as well. 

The blond just shook his head. 

“Sorry if I’m being too forward here,” Bucky continued, “but you look like you could use a break.”

The man looked up cautiously. 

“My plans for tonight are to pick up a pizza and some beer on the way home, where I plan to lounge on the couch and watch movies all night. You are more than welcome to join me, if you want.”

He continued to stare, looking confused as he processed what Bucky had just said. 

“My name is Bucky,” he said, reaching out a hand and grinning. “I probably should have led with that.”

“Steve,” the man said, relaxing as he wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s.

“I really wouldn’t want to impose…” Steve started.

“Not imposing, I promise,” Bucky assured him, “But seriously, come hideout on my couch. I can also offer a cat that will probably try to smother you with affection and let you pet him all night and some of the best pizza in Brooklyn.” 

Steve smiled softly at Bucky, thinking over the offer.

“I don’t hate cats. Or pizza.” Steve replied. 

“Awesome,” Bucky said with a grin, pulling his hand away and closing his laptop. “Let’s go then.” 

Steve would later decide that going to Bucky’s apartment that night, and chatting over pizza about things that had nothing to do with spies or Hydra or covert operations had been one of his best decisions since waking from the ice almost 2 years previously. He smiled at the idea of having a real friend for the first time since he was a kid in Brooklyn, rather than acquaintances at SHIELD who knew him as an iconic hero first, and a guy named Steve second.


	2. Chapter 2

**September**

Bucky was sitting in the middle of his living room with a notepad, surrounded by climbing gear when his phone alerted him to a text from Steve. 

**Steve:** _You busy?_  
**Bucky:** _I can take a break. Come on over._  
**Steve:** _Thanks. I’ll be there in 20 minutes._

Bucky put the phone down with a smile, and went back to the pile of carabiners, carefully checking over the hinge, clasp and lock on each one as he sorted through the pile, making note of how many were in safe working condition. 

Steve had come over a few times since they met in the coffee shop, usually when he seemed to be overwhelmed with work (which Bucky assumed actually meant the Avengers Tower), and would usually collapse onto the couch with Bucky’s cat. Bailey didn’t like many people, but Steve had quickly become his favorite, and would usually come running into the room and leap into Steve’s lap soon after the man’s arrival. Bucky would usually make a joke about his cat being a slut, and then smile sadly as he watched, jealous of how easily Bailey could erase some of the tension from Steve’s face with a simple headbutt. 

Bucky was in the middle of checking over a pile of ropes for frayed sections, and had one half way around his arm as he recoiled it when there was a knock at the door.  
“It’s unlocked!” Bucky yelled. 

Steve stepped into the room a moment later, glancing around at the piles of gear in the room, and the length of rope at Bucky’s feet.  
“Wow,” Steve said after a moment, looking surprised. 

“I know,” Bucky said with a grin. “I may have a bit of a gear acquisition problem. I’ve probably only paid for like ten percent of this stuff though.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. 

“Sponsors, bribes, generous gear budget from the magazine and production companies,” Bucky explained. “I get to keep most of the stuff from the trips I go on.”

Steve still looked confused. 

“You didn’t google me,” Bucky stated. “Usually people do when I tell them I write for a magazine.” He shrugged, clearly not bothered by people wanting to find his work.

“No,” Steve answered. “Should I have?”

Bucky just smiled at him. The word adorable popped into his head again.  
“I’m a professional climber and adventurer.” Bucky explained. “I’ve traveled all over and completed some of the toughest climbs in the world. I could tell you things about Everest that would give you nightmares.” Steve raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. 

“Dead bodies all over the mountain, people who didn’t make it,” Bucky explained. “Bodies don’t decompose up there, and it’s often too dangerous to bring the corpses back down.”

Steve cringed at the visual, and then shifted his gaze to the floor, growing uncomfortable at the mention of freezing to death. He already had nightmares. 

“So how does that lead to sponsorships and all this?” he asked, gesturing to the piles, changing the subject. 

“I’m pretty well known in the climbing community, so my articles and TV segments tend to get a lot of views. I held the speed record for climbing El Capitan in Yosemite for while, and was the youngest person to complete a 5.15a route. That’s the difficulty classification for a climbing route, ranging from 5.5 being considered a beginner climb, and a 5.15d is the hardest anyone has completed. I’ve spent the better part of my life clinging to cliff edges,” Bucky explained. “Companies will send me stuff hoping for a review on my blog, or an article mention, or for me to wear in a photoshoot or on a tv show. They love when I give workshops or do competitions, and send me lots of swag to give to participants and fans.”

“You lost me at ‘swag’” Steve replied, moving a few harnesses so he could sit on the couch. 

“Hats, t-shirts, water bottles, really anything they can slap a logo on and give away.” Bucky explained. 

Steve nodded in understanding, smiling when Bailey came into the room and leapt to the arm of the couch and next to Steve, not caring that he was shedding all over a pile of black jackets. 

“Any big trips coming up?” Steve asked, hoping for a story that would distract him from that morning’s fight with Tony. 

“Eh, nothing big for a few months,” Bucky explained with a shrug. “I’m going to Switzerland in February to film a segment on ice climbing in the Alps. It’s for a documentary they are calling ‘The World’s Most Dangerous Places’. Should be fun.”

“Ice climbing?” Steve asked. “How does that even work?”

 

“It usually means climbing a frozen waterfall,” Bucky explained casually, moving to dig through a pile in the corner. “And you use these.” He held up a pair of axes with long claw like hooks, and something metal and jagged he called a cramp-on. 

“These go over your boots so you can dig your toes into the ice with the spikes and make a toe hold, and then you have an axe in each hand that you jam into the ice and then use to pull yourself up.” He smiled as he explained, looking amused. 

“That… That sounds crazy.” Steve stuttered. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s fun!” Bucky exclaimed. 

Steve just rolled his eyes, realizing that the look he was giving Bucky was probably matched the one people gave him when he passed on using a parachute. Sure, he had done things himself that most people would deem crazy, or too risky, but he did it because he had to, and he was a supersoldier. Bucky wasn’t.

“So is that why you're taking inventory?” Steve asked, recognizing from experience what Bucky was doing, “Getting ready for the trip?” 

“Sort of,” Bucky replied, “I did a three week long trip to South America a little before we met, and I’m finally getting around to organizing everything I came back with.” He grabbed a copy of Adventure Magazine from a side table and tossed it to Steve.

“My article starts on page ten.” he explained “And that’s me on the cover.” 

Steve picked up the magazine, and leaned back to read about Bucky’s adventures climbing Nevado Sajama in Bolivia. Almost immediately, Bailey was curled up in his lap and asleep. Bucky finished checking over and coiling a few more ropes, and then settled onto the couch next to him. Steve handed back the magazine, looking impressed, and shifted to lean against Bucky, realizing how comfortable he felt being close to him, that he was starting to feel like he belonged here in the future. 

It had happened gradually over the past month, the closeness growing between them. Their conversations shifting from movies and pop culture and other general topics, to more personal stories about their childhoods and dreams. The space between them grew smaller, and the accidental touches became commonplace. Steve’s visits to Bucky’s apartment became longer and more frequent.

Several hours later, after they had eaten Chinese takeout while Steve complained about his co-worker messing with his stuff and hiding his possessions in various vents, and watched one of the documentaries Bucky had been featured in, Steve sat up and stretched with a groan. 

“Heading home?” Bucky asked with a yawn. 

Steve nodded in confirmation, but made no move to get any further off the couch. Instead, he reached over and put a hand on Bucky’s knee, frowning slightly. 

“You ok?” Bucky asked, putting his own hand on top of Steves. 

“Yeah… I’m good.” Steve answered in a near whisper. “Just, thanks. Thank you for letting me just be here.”

“Anytime, Steve,” Bucky comforted. “I like it when you’re here.” 

Steve leaned slightly closer, gazing at Bucky, still frozen on the couch. Bucky leaned in close, squeezing Steve’s hand as he placed a soft kiss to his lips. 

Steve tensed up, mouth hanging open in surprise, and Bucky had started to pull away again, when Steve once again closed the distance, kissing Bucky back. They kissed slow and gentle for a long moment before Bucky pulled away, cheeks flushed. 

“I was starting to think I misjudged the situation” Bucky said.

“No, you read it right,” Steve replied. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Stay the night?” Bucky asked. “We don’t have to do anything more tonight, but you’re welcome to stay,” He quickly added, noticing the hesitant expression on Steve’s face. 

“I wish I could,” Steve replied with a sigh. “But I have an early meeting tomorrow, and I’ll probably have to go out of town for a few days.”

Bucky nodded, understanding that Steve had to go be Captain America on a mission, and noticed that he didn’t look all that happy about it. 

“When you get back then,” Bucky offered. “You can hide out here as long as you need after.” 

Steve smiled again, and squeezed Bucky’s hand, mood lightening as he did so.  
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

He leaned in again, placing another kiss on Bucky’s lips before standing and leaving quickly, before Bucky could see him blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @krycekasks for the beautiful art of Bucky climbing in South America for this Chapter!


	3. chapter 3

****October

Bucky was hanging from the underside of a ledge, crawling upside down to the edge when Steve came into the gym, looking around at the the various textures and angles on the walls. He paused for a moment, hanging like Spiderman from 2 hand holds with his foot wedged into a crack as he looked down with a grin at Steve. 

“Last climb, babe!” He called down, sounding the slightest bit out of breath. 

Steve stood in awe as he watched Bucky make his way up to the ceiling, clinging from his fingertips to the edge of the tiniest rocks as he went. Bucky moved his hands to a larger hold, and then pulled his toe from the crack it had been wedged in as he let his legs drop below him, swinging slightly as he hung from the edge of a box that jutted out from the wall. He stilled a moment, looking up the wall, planning his next move. 

After a moment’s preparation, Bucky swung his left leg up and out to the side, hooking a toe over a small hold on the flat section of the wall above his head and hand. With a loud grunt, he then pulled himself up, arms flexed as he momentarily hung with this body parallel to the floor, and then reached up with his left and gripped another small hold with his fingertips. 

The few other guys in the gym had turned their attention to Bucky, gathering around and watching from the middle of the gym. 

“Yeah, Buck!” one of the guys cheered, and a few others clapped as Bucky held onto the hold long enough to shift his right hand to a larger block just above his head. 

Steve glanced around at Bucky’s training group, slightly confused by the cheering.  
“We just finished building this route the other day,” one of the guys explained. “It’s the hardest one in this gym, and Bucky’s the first one to make it past that move.” 

“What’s he even holding on to?” Steve questioned. 

“Not much,” the guy replied. “That hold only sticks out about a half inch, and the edge is rounded. I lost my grip and fell three times on that spot.”

The group stayed gathered at the base of the wall, necks craned as they looked up at Bucky who was steadily making his way toward the ceiling, hanging from his fingertips on narrow holds. He faltered near the top, nearly losing his grip as he pulled up a foot to make his final move before tagging the ceiling. 

Bucky glanced down at his belay partner, and was given a nod up in return, letting him know he was clear to let go and be lowered from the wall. He leaned back as he let go, trusting the rope to catch him, and let out a fist pump and a loud cheer as he was lowered back to the floor, tugging down on the rope as his feet touched to loosen up his harness. He quickly undid the figure eight knot, releasing the rope from his harness and ran across the gym toward Steve, greeting him with a tight sweaty hug.

“Help me celebrate tonight?” Bucky asked with a grin, kissing Steve before he could reply.

“Of course,” Steve replied with a laugh as he pulled away from the kiss, “but only after you shower. You stink right now.” 

Bucky kissed Steve again, laughing as Steve protested another sweaty hug.

“Get a room!” Someone yelled from across the gym. 

“I’m working on it!” Bucky yelled back, causing Steve to blush. 

“Ten minutes, I just need to stretch a little and put my gear away.” Bucky promised, moving back to a mat in the middle of the gym. Steve sat on a nearby bench and watched, while Bucky pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie after removing his climbing harness, and went through a slow stretching routine. 

They made record time getting back to Bucky’s apartment as soon as Bucky had finished his cool down and threw on his jacket and street shoes, choosing to shower at home instead of at the gym.

Steve moved toward the living room, and his usual spot on the corner of the couch once they got back to the apartment, but Bucky was quick to grab his arm and pull him toward the bathroom instead.

“Uh uh, you’re coming with me,” Bucky teased, grinning at Steve.  
Steve had frozen, eyebrows raised as he looked up at Bucky in confusion.

“Unless you don’t want to see me naked?” Bucky questioned, laughing as Steve took a step forward, finally catching on. 

Bucky grinned as Steve hesitantly followed him into the small bathroom, blushing as he shut the door. He started the water, and quickly stripped down to his under armour compression boxers, looking expectantly at Steve who was still fully dressed. 

“You planning on getting in with your clothes on?” Bucky asked, smirking as he pulled of his underwear and stepped into the shower. There was a quick rustle of fabric as Steve quickly stripped, and stepped in behind him.

 

Bucky found himself sticky with sweat and exhausted for the second time that day hours later. Steve was pressed up against his side, in a post orgasm nap with an arm across Bucky’s chest, and Bucky couldn’t bring himself to wake him up despite being a little uncomfortable from the body heat Steve was putting off. 

He stayed there, running his fingers through Steve’s hair as Steve snuffled and snored against his chest, until his stomach began growling in hunger.

“Hey Steve, wake up,” Bucky said softly, poking at Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve groaned, and shifted positions against Bucky a few times before finally opening his eyes and glancing up, looking slightly disoriented. He smiled as he looked up at Bucky, eyes still glassy with sleep. 

“You hungry?” Bucky asked, once Steve looked awake enough to potentially answer. “I was thinking Tai food, and then round two?”

Steve nodded as he sat up, and glanced down at the sticky mess on their stomachs.  
“Im hoping you’re planning on delivery,” he said with a yawn. 

“Of course,” Bucky replied with a smirk. “And maybe even round 3 in the morning, if you can finally stay tonight?”

“Sounds perfect,” Steve answered, leaning into kiss Bucky before untangling himself from the sheets and heading toward the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**November**

It was past three am when Steve used his key to let himself into Bucky’s apartment, planning on a quick shower before finally going to bed. He was moving down the hallway when the light in the bedroom switched on. 

“Come here first, please?” Bucky asked. 

Steve paused in the hallway, suddenly aware of how much dirt and ash still covered his face and arms, with bits of dried blood indicating where wounds had already healed. He had quickly changed out of his uniform and put on jeans and a sweatshirt instead, and left the second he was done with debriefings. The second he was finished being Captain America. All he could think about was seeing Bucky, but knew he should shower before getting into bed, having realized how grimey his skin felt as he got close to Bucky’s building. 

He sighed, and turned to enter the room, looking at the floor as he shuffled toward the bed where Bucky was sitting, seemingly unable to sleep. Bucky reached a hand out toward Steve, grasping his wrist and gently pulling him down onto the bed. 

“Come on, Buck,” Steve protested, “let me take a shower first, I’m all dirty.” 

“I don’t care,” Bucky replied, pulling harder at Steve’s arm, “just get down here.”

Steve sighed and collapsed onto the bed, allowing Bucky to guide him into his arms. He took several deep breaths as he relaxed into Bucky’s embrace, comforted by the sound of his boyfriend’s heartbeat, by his scent, the solid warmth that surrounded him. Feeling home. 

“I was scared, Steve.” Bucky whispered, face close as he paused from kissing Steve’s forehead, lips worrying over the pink scar of what had been a gaping wound hours before. 

Steve stayed silent, hiding his face in Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky felt him stiffen slightly in his arms, growing defensive.

“You were live on CNN when the building fell on you, and no one could tell what was happening under all the dust and debris. I thought…” Bucky’s voice caught and he struggled to continue. I thought I lost you finishing only in his head. 

“You didn’t though,” Steve whispered, turning his head so his cheek was pressed against Bucky’s chest “I’m right here, Buck, and there’s no place else I’d rather be.”

Bucky sniffled. “No other place for me either,” he replied, voice shaking as he struggled to hold back tears.

“How long have you known?” Steve asked

“That you’re Captain America? Or that I love you?” Bucky asked. 

“That I’m… uh… what?” Steve questioned, tensing up slightly, looking nervously at Bucky. He tried to play it cool, but he panicked instead. He had assumed Bucky would figure out who he was eventually, and it didn't really surprise him to learn that he already knew. But pretending he wasn’t Captain America, and being able to forget about it when he was with Bucky had been nice. He didn’t want that to change.

“I knew who you were from the moment you sat down across from me in the coffee shop.” Bucky ignored the second question he had blurted out. Maybe Steve hadn’t heard. 

“So you’ve been pretending for months?” Steve asked, pulling away as his face shifted into a glare “What’s your endgame.” He realized he was starting a fight he didn’t want to be a part of. The war had taught him to question everything.

“No, babe, it’s not like that.” Bucky soothed. “I’ve been trying to give you a break from it, so you can just be Steve.” 

Steve frowned, looking down as he processed what Bucky had said. He appreciated what Bucky had done, following his lead and going along with the act, but it was still hard to process. He had learned long ago that most people had ulterior motives for getting close to him, hoping to use his fame for their own benefit. 

“What about the other part?” He asked, looking up again, “you pretending about that too?”  
Nervous energy fueled the argument. More words he didn’t actually want to say.

“No, that’s the truth. I love you. You, Steve, not Captain America, or the characterization of you that I learned about in school. I love the real Steve Rogers who hogs all the blankets, and talks for hours about nothing, and who fits perfectly in my apartment, and my life, and I realized that today, when I wasn’t sure If I would get to see you alive again.” 

Bucky was crying, words choppy and muffled as he gave up trying to hold back the tears that had been building all day. Steves cheeks were wet as well as he collapsed back onto Bucky’s chest mumbling a string of ‘thank you’s’, and apologies and an ‘I love you too’, and allowed himself to cry for the first time since waking up in the future.


	5. Chapter 5

December

“Do the other Avengers know about me?” Bucky asked, shifting on the couch so he was facing Steve. 

The question was sudden, interrupting a sleepy silence as they lay sprawled across Bucky’s couch watching a movie.

“What?” Steve asked, looking toward Bucky. He had been nearly asleep, pulled back to reality by Bucky’s voice.

“The other Avengers,” Bucky repeated. “You know, Black Widow, Falcon, Iron Man… The coworkers you complain about all the time? Do they know you have a boyfriend? Do they know how much you like dick?”

Steve blushed slightly and sighed.   
“Some of them do, I think, but I didn’t actually tell them,” he answered nervously. 

Bucky turned to look at Steve, expression turning more serious.   
“So am I your little secret then?” Bucky asked, carefully keeping his tone light. 

“Sort of. I don't know,” Steve started, sounding unsure of himself. “I guess it's just a habit from before, instinct almost. Not used to it not having to be a secret.” 

Steve clasped his hands tightly and shifted his gaze to stare at the floor, uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. Bucky stayed silent, resting a hand on Steve's thigh in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

Steve knew that Bucky was aware of his whole back story, and the major events in his life regarding the Super Soldier Serum, and the Howling Commandos, and the mission that led to him being frozen in the ice, but they never really talked about it. There had been a few times when Bucky tried to ask about Steve’s life before 1945, but Steve would always dodge the subject, talking about some current event, or sometimes even the weather instead.

After a long moment, Steve took a deep breath and began talking, continuing to stare at the floor the whole time. 

“There was this guy, Arnie, before the war, Arnie Roth. Any one from the neighborhood would tell you we were best pals, always together. No one knew that he was more than that though.” Steve paused, taking another deep breath before continuing. “He was always bigger than me, and stronger, protecting me from all the bullies who picked on me for being small and sick. I stayed over at his house fairly often, sleeping in Arnie’s bed. We were 15 the first time he kissed me.”

Steve stopped talking and glanced up at Bucky, looking nervous.

“What happened then?” Bucky prompted, giving Steve’s thigh an encouraging squeeze. 

“Officially? Nothing,” Steve replied. “Officially we were just good friends. He was drafted a few years before I got the serum, heard he didn’t make out of Normandy.”

Steve sighed heavily, moving his hand to entwine with Bucky’s on his thigh, wiping at his eye with the other. They stayed silent for a long moment as Steve continued staring at the floor, collecting his thoughts. 

“So it’s always been guys for you?” Bucky asked. 

“Yeah, I mean, I pretended to like dames, we both did, going on double dates as a cover up. We had to to stay safe then. The girls always knew the deal though, and half the time the cover was to protect them just as much as us. There weren’t many places where we didn't have to hide, just a few bars really. They got raided pretty often though, people getting arrested for sodomy every time. It was scary sometimes.”

Steve went quiet again, staring across the room. Bucky put an arm around him, pulling Steve into a hug, and Steve went willingly, relaxing into Bucky’s shoulder and chest. 

“You don’t have to say anything until you’re ready,” Bucky told him. “I won’t try to rush you into it, but just remember it’s not like that anymore. We don’t have to be a secret.”

Steve nodded into Bucky’s shoulder with a muffled “thank you.”

“Can I ask one more question though?” Bucky asked. 

Steve lifted his head, looking up at Bucky again. 

“What did you mean exactly when you said some of the other Avengers might know about me?” Bucky asked. 

“Natasha,” Steve replied. “It’s nearly impossible to keep anything from her. Fucking spies.” 

Bucky laughed out loud, breaking some of the tension, and Steve joined in with a light laugh of his own. 

“For some reason she decided it was her duty to set me up on a date, set on finding me a girlfriend.” Steve explained, sounding slightly annoyed. “I kept turning down all of her suggestions of course, until one day she suggests a guy she knew. She caught me off guard with that one, and I let slip that I could find a guy just fine on my own. She just smirked at me, and walked away, and hasn’t tried to set me up with anyone since.” 

Bucky laughed again, grinning at Steve, who was back to staring at the floor looking embarrassed. 

“Maybe start by just telling her?” Bucky suggested. 

“She probably already knows everything about you anyway,” Steve agreed, groaning again. 

“Good,” Bucky stated, finalizing the decision. “I really want to meet her.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. “You got a crush on my coworker?”

Bucky just shrugged his shoulders with a grin, “Nah, but I can appreciate a strong gorgeous woman without wanting to get into her pants.”

“Alright,” Steve agreed, “We can tell Natasha. Is it ok if I bring her here?”

“Sounds perfect.” Bucky said, grinning excitedly. “I’ll cook… uh.. I’ll order takeout.”

Steve shook his head with another sigh. “I’m going to regret this.”


	6. Chapter 6

January

A few Saturday’s later, Steve arrived with an armful of pizzas and an excited Natasha, who was carrying a bottle of Russian vodka. 

“Bucky, meet the Black Widow, usually known as Natasha.” Steve announced, shooting a glance at the petite redhead as he spoke, warning her to behave. 

Natasha entered the living room with a friendly smile and wave, and set the bottle down on the table with the pizzas. “And this is Bucky,” Steve continued hesitantly, “my boyfriend.” 

He moved closer to Bucky as he spoke, nervously putting an arm around his shoulder. Bucky smiled back at Natasha and extended a hand to her, reaching up to grab the hand Steve had placed on his shoulder at the same time. 

“Nice to finally meet you.” Bucky greeted, “I have to admit though that it's a little weird to have the Black Widow in my apartment after all the times I’ve seen you on the news.” 

Natasha laughed at that.   
“Weirder than having Captain America in your bed?” She questioned. 

Steve groaned, and Bucky didn’t need to look to know that he was blushing. “I already like her,” Bucky said into Steve's ear, just above a whisper before planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

“And I was right about regretting this whole idea.” Steve replied, pulling away to sit on the couch. Bucky was laughing as he slipped out of the room and into the kitchen, returning with plates, napkins and 3 glasses. 

After a few moments, they were all settled in with plates of pizza, and generous shots of vodka Natasha had poured for them. 

“To Cap’s Boyfriend!” Natasha cheered, holding up her glass. “Nostrovia!”

They all clinked glasses before before downing the shots, and Natasha laughed at the faces both Steve and Bucky made as the alcohol burned. 

“Ugh.” Steve complained, looking at Nat as he set down his glass. “You know I can’t get drunk. I don’t know why you keep making me drink that stuff.” 

“I know,” Natasha replied with a shrug, “but I really enjoy the faces you make afterward.” 

Bucky laughed again, before quickly taking a bite of pizza to chase the burning liquor before he made another face of his own.

Not surprisingly, Natasha had lots of questions about how they met and who else knew, and most importantly, who she was allowed to tell. She declared their coffee shop story boring and unoriginal. Steve changed the subject before Nat had a chance to pick on him any more, and brought up Bucky’s newest Magazine article. He had written a training guide this time where he described the work out he followed at the indoor gym with photos of him demonstrating different exercises. 

Natasha spent a very long time looking at the featured photo of Bucky near the top of the wall, practically doing a split against it as he stretched for a long reach. It was Bucky's turn to blush with embarrassment as she commented on how hot Bucky looked in nothing but a pair of shorts, having been talked into climbing shirtless by the photographer. 

“You did good finding him, Steve,” She said with an approving wink. 

Steve and Bucky both groaned at that, giving each other awkward smiles.

Nat poured another round of vodka shots, having decided she was going to get Bucky drunk. 

“So Nat,” Steve spoke as he set down his class, pausing to cringe as the alcohol burned. “You and a couple of Bucky’s training partners at the gym are the only ones who really know about us, and I would appreciate if we could keep it that way for now.”

Natasha nodded.   
“You know that no one on the team would have a problem with it,” she gently assured him. 

“I know, but, I just need more time to get used to that.” Steve explained, leaning slightly into Bucky. “It used to be different.”

“Ok, I’ll keep it quiet for now,” she replied, “But at least consider telling Sam. I know he’s been wondering where you keep disappearing to, and I know he would be happy to hear your not off brooding by yourself somewhere.”

“I’ll think about it,” Steve replied. 

“Good,” she answered. “Now enough serious stuff, we’re supposed to be celebrating Captain America having a boyfriend here.”

She poured 2 more shots of Vodka, and then reached into her purse to pull out a small green bottle, handing it to Steve. 

“I found a little left over from the last time Thor was at the tower,” she explained. 

“What is it?” Bucky asked, looking at the bottle in Steve's hand. 

“Asgardian liquor, from another realm,” he explained with a smile. “It’s the only thing that can get me drunk with my metabolism.” 

“So why did you make me drink that Vodka if you had this the whole time?” Steve asked, looking at Natasha. 

“I told you,” she said with a shrug. “I find the faces you make amusing. And I didn’t make you do anything.”

She ignored Steve's glare and turned her attention to Bucky again.   
“Do you have Mario Kart for that?” She asked, gesturing to the Nintendo Wii next to Bucky’s TV. 

“Obviously,” Bucky scoffed, standing and moving to set up the console. 

“What’s Mario Kart?” Steve asked, looking unsure about the controller Bucky was handing him. 

“This is going to be fun.” Natasha declared, and Bucky just nodded in agreement.


	7. Chapter 7

February

 

“You ready?” Bucky asked, giving Steves hand a squeeze as he looked up at the Avengers tower.

Steve nodded, and began to quickly lead Bucky into the building with nervous determination, the continuous forward momentum keeping him from backing out. 

They went through a large lobby with a single security guard stationed at a desk. The guard nodded at Steve in recognition and pressed a button to open the doors of the private elevator.   
Once they entered, and the doors were closed, Steve let out a long sigh, staring blankly at the floor. 

“This is the only elevator that goes from the lobby to the living quarters.” Steve began, speaking nervously. He continued to explain all 20 elevators in the building, and where they went, and who had access to which ones, talking to keep himself calm. While Bucky held his hand and nodded as he listened to Steve, to nervous to speak himself.

The elevator stopped at the 81st floor, and it was Bucky this time who took the lead, nearly dragging Steve into a large room, with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. 

“Good Evening, Captain,” a voice echoed from above, “And Mr. Barnes, welcome.” 

Bucky glanced around confused, searching for whoever had spoken, but saw no one. 

“That’s J.A.R.V.I.S., Tony’s artificial intelligence Butler,” Steve explained.

“You did not just call J.A.R.V.I.S. a butler,” Tony exclaimed, appearing from around the corner. 

“Sorry, J,” Steve said with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke. 

“Apology accepted, Captain,” The voice replied.

“So he is real”, Tony announced, changing the subject to look Bucky up and down, “I was starting to think you were going to keep him from me forever.” 

Bucky smiled nervously, suddenly having no idea how to react to Tony Stark, standing right in front of him, checking him out, and winking approvingly at Steve. To say he was relieved when Pepper showed up was an understatement, chastising Tony to stop harassing their guest and leading them to the lounge area. Natasha was already there, curled up in a corner of a large couch with her phone in her hand. 

Bucky sat next to Natasha, chatting quietly with her while Steve somehow grew more nervous at his other side. Eventually, after a cycle of introductions and awkward small talk as Sam, Clint and Bruce arrived, and Pepper and Tony had joined the group on the couches with drinks for everyone, the attention was turned to Bucky. 

Tony started it, of course, blatantly checking Bucky out again before loudly announcing that he didn’t understand why anyone would want to keep someone so hot a secret.   
“Seriously, Cap,” he said, pointing at Steve. “I’m proud of you.” 

Steve was instantly red, blushing harder than Bucky had ever seen before Tony had made it back to the couch to sit with Pepper again. He had almost recovered, when Natasha started showing everyone pictures on her phone of Bucky’s shirtless photos from the magazine, saying that they had all only seen the wrapping paper so far. Steve hid behind his hands, leaning into Bucky. 

“I’m so sorry, for all of them.” Steve said quietly to Bucky, gesturing vaguely across the room, where everyone was now on their phone looking for Bucky’s modeling photos. 

Bucky laughed, and put an arm around Steves shoulders, pulling him closer.   
“They’re fine,” Bucky said casually. “My little sisters friends were way worse when they saw my first magazine shoots. Trust me, this is nothing.”

Steve looked over at Bucky and raised an eyebrow. 

“I promise, babe, it’s ok.” Bucky repeated, and leaned in to kiss Steve. 

Steve tensed up for a moment, instinctively afraid since they were not alone, but relaxed into it easily enough, remembering that it wasn’t a secret, and began eagerly kissing back. Everyone already knew they shared a bed most nights. 

Clint cheered loudly, and Tony was quick to smack him on the shoulder, telling him to grow up. 

“So Bucky, I hear you’re off to the Alps in a couple days?” Sam asked, once Steve and Bucky were back to sitting side by side. 

“Yeah, we leave the day after tomorrow for Zurich, and then have arrangements to stay in a small village called Unterschächen for a couple weeks. There are 12 waterfalls in an area called Brunnital just north of the Village that is one of the top ice climbing destinations in Europe that we want to cover, but the real focus is going to be on a lesser known climbing route a little further out that we will have to camp out 2 nights to get to,” Bucky excitedly explained. 

Steve relaxed into Bucky’s side, happily listening to Bucky talk about his crew, the cameramen and producers he had worked with for years, and his training partners from the gym who were going for the experience, and to act as a support team. 

“And what are you planning on doing while he’s gone Steve?” Sam asked. 

“When you’re here in New York and not trying to follow my crew,” Bucky added. 

“But what if something happens, I could help,” Steve weakly argued, again. 

“Think you guys could help keep him out of the way?” Bucky asked hopefully, looking toward Sam and Nat, “and remind him that we will have a helicopter for most of the shoot.”

“We’ll try, but I can’t promise anything,” Sam replied with a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure you know by know how stubborn he can be though.” 

Bucky nodded, and Steve just sighed, knowing better than to continue arguing. He still had a bad feeling about the trip though, despite knowing how solid Bucky’s plans were, and how experienced his team was. 

Tony kept everyone’s drinks filled as the conversation shifted through other random topics over the next few hours and Bucky was welcomed into the group. 

“Alright, lovebirds,” Tony declared, standing from the couch after a lull in the conversation. “You two need to be on your way now if you are going to make your reservation.” 

“Reservation?” Steve questioned, raising an eyebrow at Tony. 

 

“Yeah. The one I made for you at The Chef’s Table at Brooklyn Fare,” Tony explained, “Happy is bringing the car around now to drive you there.” 

“The Chef’s Table?” Bucky asked, eyes wide. “I thought it takes weeks to get in there.”

“Months, actually,” Tony corrected. “If you’re most people.” 

They stood and said goodbye to the group, saying they would have to get together again when Bucky returned. 

“Why are you doing this, Tony,” Steve questioned, pulling him aside.

 

“Because believe it or not Cap, I like doing nice things for my friends so I can see them be happy,” Tony explained with a sigh. “No catch, just doing something nice. And you two won’t be together on Valentines, so this should sort of make up for that.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced by the explanation. “Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it, really.” 

“I mean it about seeing my friends happy, and this? You and Bucky? It’s good, I like it, he makes you happy.” Tony said, pointing across the room to where Bucky was saying goodbye to Nat and Sam. “Now go, be romantic and give that boy a proper goodbye tonight.” 

Steve blushed as he nodded and moved away from Tony, toward the door. 

“Hey Buckaroo!” Tony called across the room, laughing at the confused glare Bucky shot him in return. “Come over here a minute.” 

Bucky made his way over to Tony, looking unsure.   
“Relax man, I like you. Stop worrying.” Tony instructed. “I just want to give you this.” 

He pulled a silver disk from his pocket, roughly the size of a dime, and handed it to Bucky. 

“GPS tracker,” Tony explained. “Just put it in a pocket and let Steve monitor your location from here.” 

“Uh, thanks, but we already have emergency radios and locators.” Bucky explained. 

“I know, but this works better with my software. Don’t make me have to do extra work hacking into yours. It will be much easier to keep Steve here if I can put him in front of a computer to keep an eye on you,” Tony said. 

Bucky nodded in understanding. The tracker was more for the Avenger’s benefit than Bucky’s. He nodded in thanks and slipped them into his pocket.


	8. Chapter 8

The Swiss Alps

The journey to Unterschächen was long but uneventful, and Bucky and his crew were exhausted by the time they arrived at the small Inn. They spent the first 2 days in town, chatting with local climbers and guide groups, enjoying the local food, and resting up for the big climbs they had planned later in the week. It had been something Bucky had insisted on, knowing they would probably need the short break to adjust to the timezone and altitude changes. 

They spent a few days filming on the beginner climbs close to the village, shooting short segments with tourists trying ice climbing for the first time, and some of the locals they had met in town. The cameras attracted a lot of attention, and a few climbers recognized Bucky and hesitantly asked him for advice. It wasn’t long before Bucky’s entourage doubled in size, and he was giving an impromptu workshop on one of the intermediate level waterfalls, and getting his planned workout in through demonstrations. 

It was still dark when Bucky and his crew left the Inn on the third day and began the two-day hike to one of the more obscure climbing spots. It was considered the most difficult in the area, and only attempted by experts. They piled into a hired van and were driven out of the village, past the farms at the edge of the valley, and to the start of a trail system to the south. 

The goal for the first day was 10 miles of hiking, often through knee deep snow and up steep grades to reach their planned camping spot for the night in a flat area at the base of a cliff, providing protection on 2 sides. They filmed what they could on the way in, when the terrain allowed for a free hand to carry a camera or the views ahead were interesting enough for a helmet cam. 

They reached their destination with an hour of daylight left, and the wind was light enough to capture drone shots of Bucky and his team as they set up their tents and began preparing their dehydrated dinners with a tiny butane stove, sun setting in the distance. 

They went to sleep soon as it got dark, burrowing into puffy sleeping bags made from high tech fibers before the dark and cold became too much. Bucky held the small silver disk as he fell asleep, hoping that Steve was still in New York as he had promised, while also wishing he was there.

The next day started tense. The wind had picked up overnight, and the team was quiet as they choked down instant coffee and protein bars and secured the camp for the day, taking only the gear they would need for the climb. 

The mile and a half hike to the base of the waterfall was slow going, with steep sections they had to use hands and feet to climb, and exposed ridgelines with snow drifts that were almost waist deep in parts. The weather seemed to be on their side however, and the wind died down as the sun came out from behind clouds by the time they reached their destination. 

The next hour went by quickly as they strapped into harnesses and crampons, and ran through various checklists and safety checks to ensure everyone was properly equipped. The helicopter they had for the day for aerial shots appeared from behind a mountain right on time, carrying their producer and a second camera man. 

After a quick chat between Bucky and his producer on satellite phones, the team was ready to go. They were covering the climb from all angles, between the chopper shots, a camera mounted on a tripod near the base of the falls, a drone camera that would stay near Bucky as he climbed, and Bucky’s helmet cam, there was sure to be plenty of footage for the final documentary. 

Bucky was nervous as he prepared to start climbing, but they had been planning this moment for months, so that was probably to be expected. He reached into a pocket and fingered the small metal disk that had been tucked inside, nerves calming at the connection to Steve it gave him. He took a deep breath, holding it in with his eyes closed, and released it with a shout.

“Ready for this?” He called to his training partners, getting whoops and cheers in return. 

“See you boys at the top” Bucky replied with a grin, pulling out his axes, and beginning his ascent up the frozen waterfall. 

It wasn’t long before Bucky was calm and focused. The loud, steady chopping sound of the helicopter above him, and the buzzing of the drone a few meters from his shoulder became background noise, and it was just him and the ice. His focus was on going up, constantly scanning for the next place to dig an axe or crampon into as he climbed, thriving on the rush of adrenaline and excitement that climbing never failed to give him. 

The team climbed slowly, allowing for the camera crew to get as much footage as possible, and Bucky repeatedly had to remind himself that he wasn't here to set a record. Not this time at least. He took more breaks than usual, looking to his partners on either side and behind and below him each time, capturing the footage on his helmet cam the producer had requested. Everything was going as planned. 

They were half an hour in, and a little over halfway to the top when they heard a rumble in the distance and the mountain shook. Bucky paused, glancing over at his team, questioning if they should continue. He was given 2 thumbs up signals in return, and continued climbing. A few minutes later, the mountain shook again, weaker this time, and a roaring noise followed. 

Bucky looked up to see a wave of snow beginning to pour over the top of the waterfall and surrounding cliff ledges, and began to panic. He had dug his axe into a new, slightly higher hold when he heard the faint popping noise of the ice beginning to crack.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a final crack and Bucky fell, gripping his axe like it could still save him, instinctively looking for a safer hold, but there wouldn’t be one. He clung to the piece of ice that had broken off as he fell with it, the rest of the avalanche quickly following, and prayed for a quick end when he made his inevitable landing in the river below. 

The cold was sudden as the water surrounded him and the ice chunks pushed him under. He tightened his grip on his axe, telling himself not to panic, when everything faded to black. 

He opened his eyes and found himself staring down at him. He closed his eyes again, thinking he must have hallucinated it. He opened his eyes to see himself again, laughing this time. 

“Sorry Bucky, but this is real,” the other him said, sounding amused. “There’s about 20 of here, and none of us are hallucinations.” 

Bucky sat up, cautiously glancing around has he slid his fingers over the polished stone floor. How the hell did he end up in a place with a stone floor? This was not the type of stone floor he should have landed on. Hell, he shouldn’t have survived a landing at all. Half his clothes and gear had disappeared also, and he found he was down to his baselayer merino wool shirt and pants and thick socks.

“Huh?” he asked “How did you know I thought you were a hallucination?”  
“Because I’m you,” Other Bucky replied. “Or at least an alternate version of you. But we all did the same thing at first. All of us thought that closing our eyes would erase the hallucination. Didn’t work for anyone.”

Bucky stayed on the floor and continued glance around the space. It looked like Grand Central Station, but there were no crowds. It made no sense. He had been in Switzerland, in the Alps, not in New York. 

“Grand Central is a common memory, someplace every version of us have been in, so it kinda makes sense that we would end up in a place that looks so similar. Easier to use a shared memory than create a new world for us to wait in,” Other Bucky explained, before he could even think to ask. “Now get up and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Other Bucky stretched out a hand to help him up, and once again, Bucky found himself staring. The hand held out to him was made of metal, comprised of lots of small metal plates. 

“I’m guessing you don’t have one of these,” Other Bucky said with a grin, wiggling the metal fingers. There was a faint mechanical noise as they moved, plates shifting as joints straightened and bent again. 

“No, I don’t.” Bucky said, holding up a left flesh arm. 

“That’s kind of unusual,” other Bucky said, sounding almost impressed. “We seem to have a problem holding onto left arms. Now let’s go, get up so I can show you around.” 

Bucky stood, still incredibly confused but figured he might as well go along with it. He also wasn’t sure he wanted to know about the left arm thing. 

“So, what kind of Steve do you have?” Other Bucky asked casually. 

“Huh? What does Steve have to do with this?” Bucky asked.

“Every Bucky here has a corresponding Steve. You can’t leave until your Steve comes. You have to be with him to go through the exit portal.”

“There are Steve's here too?” 

“Just one, a skinny version who couldn’t shake a bad bout of pneumonia when he was 16. Only Steve to ever arrive before his Bucky.” 

“So not all Steves get to be Captain America?” Bucky asked. 

“No, different version in each universe, same as us, and we come from different time periods too. What year were you born?” Other Bucky asked.

“1984,” Bucky answered “so technically my boyfriend is old enough to be my Grandfather.” 

“I would avoid thinking too much about that,” Other Bucky laughed. “Were you a soldier?” 

“Thought about joining up, but no,” Bucky explained, “I’m a professional climber. I fell from a frozen waterfall in the Alps. It was supposed to be part of a documentary. There was an avalanche.”

“That is not unique,” Other Bucky replied, grinning again. “There’s a fair number of us who managed to fall from high up, including several others who were in the Alps. It’s interesting what stays consistent across all the universes,” he mused, and started walking down a hallway, gesturing to Bucky to follow him. 

“Did you fall too?” Bucky asked, following down the hallway. 

“Yeah, from a train in the Alps during WWII,” Other Bucky explained. “That was years before I ended up here though.” 

They went through an archway and into what appeared to be a lounge area with several couches arranged around a soft looking carpet. There were about 10 Bucky’s sitting on the couches or lounging on the floor, some reading, several pacing around the edge of the room impatiently, a few watching TV, and right in the middle was a small blond boy with a sketchbook. The one Steve waiting for his Bucky. 

“Hey guys,” Other Bucky called from the entrance way. “We got a new arrival! 47 here is an 80’s model with a real left arm, waiting for a Captain version.” 

A few of the Bucky’s glanced up and waved, quickly going back to their books or pacing and glaring.

“47?” Bucky asked, looking toward Other Bucky, “and what do you mean I'm an 80’s model?”

“We all have numbers based on when we arrived,” Other Bucky explained, “Calling everyone else ‘other Bucky’ and then ‘other other Bucky’ gets confusing fast. I’m 38, a Winter Soldier model.” 

Bucky just looked more confused. 

“Like I said, different versions from different time periods and universes. You’re an 80’s model, meaning you didn’t know Steve before the war. He was already Captain America when you met him, right?” 38 continued. 

“That's right. I learned about Steve in school, he was in all my history books,” Bucky confirmed. 

“My universe was totally different, I was born in 1917, Steve was my best friend growing up and we fought together in the war until I fell and Hydra got me.” He held up the metal arm. “That’s where this came from. 17, 23, 32 and 43 here have the same backstory, but our plots all split off after 1945.”

Bucky just nodded, wanting to ask more, but assumed there would be no further explanation. He remembered learning enough about Hydra in school to assume the worst about the Winter Soldier's’ stories. 

“You might as well get comfortable,” 38 told Bucky, gesturing toward the couches, “could be here awhile.” He then walked off to a corner of a room, starting a conversation with another Winter Soldier version.

Bucky looked around, still half convinced that this was all a dream he desperately wanted to wake up from. He noticed a half empty couch, and hesitantly walked over to sit down next to another version of himself. There was a movie or something on the TV that he started watching, with a guy in a spacesuit who looked eerily familiar. Like looking in a mirror familiar.

“What are we watching?” Bucky asked, looking over at the other Bucky sitting next to him, noticing he was missing his left arm. 

“Movie called The Martian, only exists in one universe as far as we’ve been able to figure out.” Other Bucky explained. “Some version of us out there is a hollywood actor, it's one of his movies.”

The Bucky sitting next to him sat up a little, looking over at him. “I’m 41,” he announced. “You’re going to just confuse your self worse if you keep thinking of me as Other Other Bucky.”

“47,” Bucky replied, “but you probably already knew that.” 

41 nodded. “I heard you arrive. You were screaming.” 

“I was?” Bucky asked, sounding embarrassed.

“Most of us are screaming,” 41 said with a shrug. “There seems to be a lot of falling to our deaths.”

“Ice climbing in the Swiss Alps,” Bucky said. “There was an avalanche, the section of the waterfall I was on broke off, and then I was here. We’re dead, aren’t we?”

“Dead is the general assumption, though some think coma. No one actually knows what will happen when we go through the portal. All we know for sure is that we are waiting for our Steve to join us so we can leave.”

“I kind of don’t want to know, but… the Steves? Do they also have to die?”

41 just nodded, looking at the floor. “It’s good that I’m still waiting then, I guess, since it means those aliens that came out of the sky didn’t get him. It kinda feels wrong in a way to wish he’d hurry up and get here. I don’t want to take Captain America away from my universe.”

“My Steve is Captain America too, but he thought it was a secret.” Bucky said as he leaned back against the couch. “He needed a break. I let him just be Steve and pretend when we were together.”

“I wish I could have done that,” 41 replied with a smile. “He was in the Cap suit when we met though.”

“Were you in the war with him?” Bucky asked, wondering about the uniform. 

“No, I worked in a coffee shop, in Stark tower,” 41 explained. “I’m an 80’s model also, making good use of my army training in engineering. IED in Afghanistan.” he added, pointing toward his left side, “Steve came in 6 times before he finally got up the nerve to actually talk to me.”

“Let me guess, he didn’t want to impose?” Bucky asked, remembering how he met his own Steve. 

“That’s not far off. He didn’t want to be rude by assuming I was gay,” he laughed. “I thought I was sending out pretty strong vibes.”

“So are all of us gay then?” Bucky asked. 

“Most of us seem to be.” 41 answered. “A few bisexuals here and there, and a few that somehow haven’t managed to get together with their Steve's yet. I remember one that claimed to be straight, but no one believed him.”

 

“So were you screaming when you got here too?” Bucky asked, looking cautiously over at 41. 

“Yeah,” 41 replied. “And running. I was in Stark tower when the aliens came through. Something hit the corner I was in and the last thing I remember was the ceiling coming down on top of me. I have no idea where Steve was at the time, other than fighting something. The tower was supposed to be safe. 

\----------------

There was a flash of light from the far side of the station, followed by a loud mechanical whirring sound. Several of the Bucky’s in the room perked up and glanced through the doorway, and a couple even stood and moved toward the hallway. 

“It’s a Steve!” one of the Bucky’s called out, a Winter soldier version. “The portal is about to open!” 

More of the Bucky’s stood at the announcement and moved toward the archway marking the entrance to the room. Bucky stood, curious, and joined to the group. He spotted a glow in the distance, growing brighter as it shifted from white to blue and took on the appearance of swirling water. 

“It looks like a stargate.” Bucky said, staring in awe at the portal forming out of what had previously been a solid stone wall. 

41, who was standing behind Bucky, laughed out loud at the comment.   
“That’s what I said!” he exclaimed. “I was the only 80’s model here when I first saw it, and no one else had any idea what I was talking about.”  
“What?” Bucky asked, incredulous. “How do you not know Stargate? Where they living under a rock or something?”

“Nah, mostly they were frozen,” 41 replied with a laugh. 

They heard a yell from the other side of the portal, and then a Steve fell through, landing hard on his shield, tucked into a ball. He quickly rolled to his feet and stayed crouched behind the shield, peering over the top as he glanced around. The Bucky’s stayed back, standing calmly as Steve slowly stood, shifting from panicked and defensive to confused and cautious, relaxing his shield arm. 

“What the fuck?” Steve questioned. “Am I in New York?” 

The Bucky’s stayed quiet as Steve looked over the group of them in front of him.

Steve stood cautiously, still holding the shield in front of himself, scanning the group in front of him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He locked eyes with a couple of Winter Soldier versions, as if he was searching for something. 

“Which of you is the real Bucky?” He demanded.

29, a 1917 model, stepped forward. 

“Technically, we’re all real Bucky’s.” He explained. “The real question is which of us is your Bucky?”

Steve didn’t look happy with the explanation, and furrowed his eyebrows as he glared at the group. 

“We call this place the station,” 29 continued. “We don’t know what it is exactly though, just that we are all from different universes, with different stories about our Steves and how we ended up here.”

“Are you with Hydra? Setting up a trap for me?” Steve asked. 

“No Steve, Hydra has nothing to do with this place.” 29 assured him “We thought the same at first, but some of us here are from timelines where Hydra doesn’t exist. We are not holograms, or life model decoys either.”

Steve gripped his shield tightly as he glanced around again, opening and closing his mouth to speak a few times, and closing it without saying anything.

“So what happens now?” he finally asked. “Are we trapped here?”

“Not permanently.” 29 told him gently, “You can leave through the exit portal with your Bucky, the one that came here from the same universe as you.”

Steve took a few steps closer to the group standing in the doorway, looking more closely at a few of the winter soldier versions. 

“I…. I don’t know,” his face fell as he spoke, looking disappointed in himself.

“We all look too much alike, I know,” 29 assured him “It’s hard for us to recognize our Steve’s at first too.”

17, one of the Winter Soldier versions stepped forward, standing next to 29.   
“What’s the last thing you remember before arriving here?” he asked.

“It was a rescue mission, Bucky had gone on a solo mission to destroy a Hydra base, something went wrong, we had no communication for 2 days.” Steve started, staring off at a point on the wall. “Nat and I went to find him, returning to his last confirmed location.”

One of the Bucky’s had slipped back into the lounge as Steve began his story, fetching 23 who had stayed behind with his book. Some of them had been disappointed before, seen the wrong Steve's come through enough times, and no longer got their hopes up when the portal opened.

“Where was the base?” 23 asked hesitantly, stepping toward Steve.

“Utah,” Steve answered.

“I lost all communication once I went underground. It was a trap. There was an explosion as soon as I entered the server room, and I ended up here,” 23 explained.

“Bucky?” Steve reached out a hand in disbelief.

“you found me,” 23 whispered, striding forward and pulling Steve into a hug.

“I thought you were dead” Steve replied, tears forming in his eyes “I found the server room and…I thought I...I think there was another explosion. It was loud, and bright, and then i was here.” 

“I’m right here, Punk, you didn’t lose me.” Bucky assured, wiping the tears from Steve's face with his thumb. 

“Let’s go, Stevie.” 23 grabbed Steve's hand and led him into another small room, empty aside from an ornate gold frame hanging on the wall. They each pressed a palm to the wall in the center of the frame, and a low pitched humming noise began as the stone wall faded away, revealing an image of desert sands in its place. They stepped through the portal together, and the stone wall filled the frame once again.

The portal faded away, and the room was once again empty aside from the frame on the wall. Bucky stood staring, wondering for the first time what was happening in his world, and to his actual body in the Alps. He realized he had no idea what had happened to his crew, the cameraman and producer, and two of his training partners who had come as a support team. Had they fallen also? Was there a rescue operation going on? Did anyone even know they needed to be rescued? He didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. 

He stood alone for another moment that could have been days, or seconds perhaps, because as far as Bucky could tell time didn’t flow in the way he was used to in this place. He tried to remember how long it had been since he arrived, and found that it had felt like 5 minutes and 5 years at the same time. 

Bucky was lost in thought as he wandered back into the lounge area, noticing that things had seemed to go right back to the way they had been before the portal opened. Winter soldier versions were pacing the perimeter, or cleaning weapons. 80’s models, and 1917 models, those who had known Steve as kids but were never captured by hydra, lounged on the couches with science fiction books or watched movies. The only Steve, the tiny blond, was curled into the corner of a couch with a sketchbook, looking up at him.

Bucky sat next to Steve, greeting him with an awkward smile.   
“Mind if I sit with you?” he asked.

“I don't mind at all.” Steve said, turning slightly toward Bucky. “I like hearing stories from all of you.” 

“But that could be spoilers,” Bucky warned. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Could be,” Steve replied with a shrug. “Or I could be dead already.”

“Maybe,” Bucky agreed. “But if you’re anything like my Steve, you haven't actually given up on surviving. I know you still believe this is just a dream, or a coma you can wake up from.”

“Ok, so maybe I do want spoilers,” Steve replied with a sigh. “Look at me, I could use all the advantages I can get if I actually wake up from this and get a chance to be Captain America.”

“Always strategizing,” Bucky replied with a laugh. “Just like my Steve. He even tried to take over the planning for my trip to Switzerland, where I was filming a mountaineering documentary. He insisted I share all the routes and filming locations we would use, and our emergency plans before we left. He originally wanted to come along, but my producer managed to talk him out of it, insisting we were all experienced professionals.” 

“Sounds a little like my Bucky,” Steve said with a smile, “Always going out of his way to make sure I was safe, fighting off the bullies. Heck, he probably would have put one of those tracker things 41 told me about on me if we’d had ‘em in my time.” 

“The tracker!” Bucky exclaimed, “Once we managed to convince Steve not to come along, Tony convinced me to wear one of his GPS locators. I agreed to that, since having Captain America on call for emergency back up definitely wasn't a bad idea. It was supposed to keep Steve home in NY, distracted by watching my location on a computer.” 

“He’s probably been camped out with a Quinjet less than 20 miles away,” Steve said with a smile. “Assuming he's like the other Captain America’s I’ve heard stories about. He’ll find you.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his hands. 

“You look more like him than most of these guys,” Steve announced abruptly, “like my Bucky.”

Bucky glanced around the room, and then gave Steve a confused look. 

“Your eyes,” Steve explained. “Still happy and bright, if that makes any sense. It’s different with the ones with the metal arms, they’re harsher, damaged, like a part of them is missing.”

Bucky just nodded in understanding, realizing what exactly had seemed wrong when he looked at them compared to the face he was used to looking at in the mirror. It wasn’t just because the image was reversed. Most of the other versions of himself looked half dead inside.

“How long have you been here?” Bucky asked, changing the subject. 

“I have no idea,” Steve answered with a sad smile “Time seems broken here, as I'm sure you’ve noticed, but I was one of the first, I think we were only up to Bucky number 5 or 6 when I came through. I’ve watched a lot of you guys come and go, and seen glimpses of lots of versions of myself. Never talked to any of them though.”

“Can’t really blame you for that, talking to yourself is super weird,” Bucky said with a laugh. 

“I honestly don’t know how all of you do it,” Steve admitted.


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky was sitting with Steve on the couch, flipping through an issue of Scientific America without actually reading anything as he tried to distract himself with photos of distant galaxies taken by the Hubble telescope. He had no idea how long he had been there when he heard a mechanical whirring noise, different from when the portal had opened for the last Steve. He heard a shout from the hallway, and stood to follow a few other versions of himself to greet the newcomer. 

He peeked around the corner in time to hear 38 explain that he wasn’t a hallucination and grinned at the repeated conversation, listening as the New Bucky, 48, was asked about his Steve.

“My Steve is long dead, and I should be too,” 48 replied, sounding agitated. “What does that matter anyway?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, but all of us so far have had a Steve to wait for,” 38 replied calmly. 

“Well, not me, Pal,” 48 snapped. “My Steve has been gone since he was 16.”

48 crossed his arms and glanced around, frowning as he began to walk off in a seemingly random direction. 

“Bucky?” a voice called from the archway, causing 48 to pause and tense up further. “Is that you?”

“My name is James,” 48 grunted as as he turned toward the voice, hand clenching into a tight fist. “No one has called me Bucky since…” 

He paused, staring at the small blond standing in front of him. 

“Steve?” he questioned. “How…”

“I’ve been here waiting for you,” Steve explained, taking a hesitant step forward.

48 took a step back, shaking his head. 

“No,” he protested. “No. This isn’t right. This isn’t real.”

He went pale as he slowly backed away, shaking his head and blinking as he tried to drive away the hallucinations, wake up, or maybe even finally die properly.

“Why are they making me see you?” 48 finally asked, voice shaking as he looked up at Steve. “What kind of fresh hell is this?”

“Not a trick, Buck,” Steve said with a sigh. “It’s really me, promise. It’s not the end of the line yet, Jerk.”

48 froze up, staring at Steve, face softening slightly. Steve crouched down and removed a shoe, and pulled an old bit of newspaper from it as he stood. 48 stepped closer as Steve held out the piece of paper to him. 

“If I was a trick someone was making you see, would they have known about this?” Steve asked, sounding hopeful. 

“No, they wouldn’t,” 48 replied, still sounding skeptical. “You’ve really been waiting here, Punk?” 

Steve nodded, smiling shyly. “Of course I have, now let’s go.”

48 took Steve’s hand and followed without question to the room with the empty frame. 

“Where are we going?” He finally asked as they approached the wall. 

 

“I have no idea,” Steve answered, “but we’re going there together.”

They pressed their hands to the wall, and stepped through when the portal opened into a bright and sterile looking laboratory. 

\--------

Bucky continued to wait, for hours that could have easily been months, or years, or seconds. He had accepted that time didn’t exist in a way he was used to, but still found himself trying to understand it. It wasn’t a terrible distraction, to imagine all the possible ways that all these different universes could exist side by side, and overlap in one place. He tried to work out how every point in time could exist all at once, as he thought may be happening in the station. He watched movies and read, when he wasn’t pacing around or chatting with the other Bucky’s. 

He watched as 29 and 43 were reunited with their Steve’s, and 49 and 50 arrived. It was the same scene each time with very few variations. He continued to wait, and wondered if he was still alive. 

The fourth time Bucky heard the sound of the portal opening, and grinned at the similarity to the sound of a stargate, he didn’t bother getting up off the couch. He had watched enough other Steve’s come and go and didn’t want to watch another Bucky leave. 

He tried to block out the familiar conversation as the Steve was given the explanation of where he was and instructed to find his Bucky. He couldn’t though, and the word “avalanche” had him on his feet and rushing toward the archway. Steve was still standing defensively, alternating between panic and confusion. He was dressed similarly to Bucky, in wool base layers and thick socks, hair sticking in all directions. 

“You found me.” Bucky said, stepping around 19 and 38 to enter the large hallway. 

Steve looked up and immediately smiled, staring in disbelief as Bucky walked toward him. 

“So, I’ve been wondering,” Bucky asked with a grin, “where was the quinjet parked?”

“That’s your first question?” Steve asked “You get sucked through a portal to whatever this place even is, and you’re wondering where I parked the quinjet?”

Bucky laughed as as he reached out and pulled Steve into a tight hug, and buried his face into his neck. Steve squeezed him back with a long sigh, as the last feelings of panic he had felt upon his arrival dissipated.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered to Steve before pulling away slightly. “I’ve had plenty of time here to think about how weird this place is, so yes, where?”

“About a 3rd of the way down the mountain from where you were climbing, next to the river,” Steve answered with a smile. “And how is 10 minutes plenty of time?”

“Is that how long it’s actually been?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow. “I never really managed to figure out how time works here. Interesting.”

Steve just laughed, pressing a palm to Bucky’s chest.  
“So what happens now?” Steve asked. 

“Now we find out where the second portal goes.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and led him toward the small room with the empty gold frame. He glanced behind him, taking a last look at the lounge, as the dozen or so impossible versions of himself resumed the routine of reading and pacing. 

They stood at the frame, hesitant for a moment, Bucky growing nervous as he realized he was about to find out if he was dead or not. Steve squeezed his hand, and then together they reached up and pressed their palms to the stone wall in the middle of the frame. The same low pitched humming noise that he had heard before started, and the wall faded away, revealing a dim hospital room. They took a step, and the green and white tiled floor solidified under their feet. He was just starting to make out the shape of someone in the bed when a piece of equipment began to beep loudly, and there was a flash of bright light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Krycek for the beatiful art accompanying this chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

Bucky felt like he was floating, disconnected, and wasn’t sure if he could feel his body or not. It was dark, and while he could hear faint sounds, it was like trying to hear through earplugs, or underwater. A beeping noise grew louder, growing gradually faster, and a steady mechanical hissing sound joined in. He felt something on his hand, pressing down on the back of it, and flicked it away. 

The thing grabbed on again, a hand, he realized, clasping his. 

“Bucky?” he heard, barely making out his own name. 

“Wake up, Buck.” The voice repeated, Steve’s, he now recognized.

He opened his eyes, and the room immediately spun in a blur as he struggled to focus.

“Stay calm, Buck,” Steve urged. “Easy, Babe.” 

He blinked, and tried to take a deep breath, but found that he couldn’t, and nearly panicked as he realized there was something in his mouth, holding it open. He chest felt tight as he realized he couldn’t control his breathing. 

“You’re on a ventilator.” Steve explained calmly, stroking Bucky’s arm and hand as he spoke. “It’s helping you breathe right now, and you can’t talk because of the tube down your throat.”

Bucky looked up at Steve, focusing on his face, and the feel of their hands together, and managed to relax. He wasn’t dead. This wasn’t good, but he wasn’t dead. 

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur as doctors and nurses filed in and out, checking monitors and making notes, and telling him they would be able to take him off the ventilator soon. He drifted in and out of consciousness, with Steve at his side, and wondered when soon would be. Keeping track of time passing while in the hospital, Bucky realized, was just as confusing as it had been in the station. 

It hurt when they finally took him off the ventilator, scraping all the way up his throat as the tube was slowly removed, eyes tearing as he coughed and gasped for air. The morphine they gave him as soon as he was able to regulate his breathing again was a relief, and he felt like he was floating again. 

 

Steve was still there when Bucky woke the next morning, sleeping sideways in the armchair at the right side of his bed. He wondered if Steve had left at all. A nurse came in with a cup of water and a straw, whispering about how good it was to see Steve finally sleeping peacefully as she held the cup for Bucky, warning him to go easy and just take a tiny sip. 

She left him after a few more small sips and a quick check of his monitors. He tried not to pay attention as the nurse spent several minutes near his left shoulder, checking a bandage. Something was wrong with his left arm, he had known that from the first time he opened his eyes, but hadn’t hadn’t tried to look yet. “We seem to have a problem holding on to left arms.” repeated on a loop in his head, as he tried not to think about the number of prosthetic or missing left arms he had seen in the Station. 

He looked to his right at Steve instead, and listened to his breathing as he slept, and reached out as far as he could with his right hand, just touching Steves. 

 

Steve was awake, reading a book the next time Bucky woke. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep again. 

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky said, voice rough from the ventilator. 

Steve looked up with a smile, quicky setting down his book and leaning over to rest his elbows on the edge of the bed. 

“Welcome back, Buck,” he said with a grin, carefully avoiding the IV in the back of Bucky’s hand as he picked it up and kissed his fingers. “I missed you.”

“Too far away,” Bucky complained as he grabbed Steve and pulled him closer. 

Steve stood and leaned down to kiss Bucky gently on the lips, making Bucky moan in protest when he quickly pulled away again. Very carefully, Steve squeezed on to the edge of the bed laying on his left side, head resting on Bucky’s shoulder with their right hands clasped on Bucky’s chest, making sure not to pull on the IV. Bucky relaxed, for the first time since waking up as Steve nuzzled and kissed at his neck and shoulder. 

“It’s gone, isn’t it,” Bucky whispered after a moment.   
Steve paused a moment, and then nodded into Bucky’s shoulder.   
“Sorry, Buck,” he replied cautiously, “but they had to amputate your left arm. It was crushed between two large pieces of ice in the river. There was too much damage to save it.”

Bucky nodded, unable to speak as his chest tightened again and tears began to flow down his cheeks as Steve held him. He didn’t know how long he cried. It hurt more than he expected, to hear it out loud, even though he already knew the truth. 

 

It was a week before Bucky was released, and slowly, bit by bit, Steve filled Bucky in on what had happened, stopping his story to allow Bucky to process everything, and hold him as he cried several more times throughout the week. 

There was an Avalanche, that much Bucky already knew, having seen the rush of snow roaring toward him as he fell. Steve and Nat had seen the report of an earthquake 100 miles north from their location in the quinjet, where they had been monitoring Bucky’s team through the satellite footage Tony had set up and through the tracker, and were already heading to the waterfall when the shockwaves triggered the snow to begin sliding. They arrived just in time to see the ice break away, and to see Bucky disappear into the snow and river below, watching helplessly from above. 

They landed as soon as it was safe, along with the producer and cameraman who had been in a helicopter, and Steve didn’t hesitate to dive into the water, fighting the current and large ice pieces as he searched for Bucky and his support team, finding his climbing partners and pulling them from the icy water, still conscious, long before he spotted Bucky, further down the river. 

It was 15 minutes before they freed him from the ice, his rope and axe had become tangled together, freezing into the ice as he was pulled down river, and it was a struggle to cut his harness and pull him from the water. He wasn’t breathing as Steve carried him to the Quinjet, yelling to Natasha to start the engines.

He had been in a coma for 6 days.

Steve moved in officially with Bucky as soon as they were back in NY, and life went on, although differently. His days were now filled with therapy sessions, both physical to learn to function with one arm, and talk to cope with the loss of a limb, and potentially his career. It was physically and emotionally draining, and Steve became his rock, always offering a shoulder to cry on at the end of a hard day. 

Instead of spending his days in the gym, training on the climbing wall, he was in meetings with his editors and producers, all anxiously waiting for him to tell his story. The climbing community, he learned, had been impacted heavily by the accident, and Bucky found himself overwhelmed by the number of vigils that had been held while he was in a coma, and the large bins of get well cards that had been sent to the magazine. He read through them a few at a time, often tearing up as he read message after message about how he had inspired someone to begin climbing, or how great it had been to meet him at a workshop, or see him in a bouldering competition. He stayed motivated by not wanting to disappoint anyone. 

Two months after arriving home from the hospital, Bucky had written a short piece for the magazine, thanking everyone for their support, and praising his team for their quick actions that led to everyone coming home safe. He announced his return to the gym with a photo of him doing one armed pull-ups, and shared that he was planning both a book and workshop tour in the coming year, stating that he was searching for ways to stay involved with the sport. 

As time passed, Bucky found it harder to remember the events that had occured in the station, conversations with his doppelgangers becoming more and more vague. He had tried to mention it to Steve once, but Steve didn’t remember it at all, saying it was probably just a dream. Bucky nodded in agreement, letting it go, but still unable to drop the idea that it was something more than that.

He knew though that it didn’t actually matter if it was real, if he had dreamed it all, or even if It was a hallucination. His brain's way of protecting it self from the trauma. What mattered was that in the end, his Steve had found him. Steve had gone against his wishes and followed him to the alps, and was probably why Bucky was still there today. 

It was the beginning of a long ride together, and he hoped the end of the line was still far in the future.


	12. Epilogue

He thought it was some kind of cruel joke when he heard the mechanical whirring of the portal, a final trick of the multiverse. His Steve was probably immortal, would probably never come through the portal. Or at least that had been what was easiest to believe. 

Number 1 was alone again, in the strange marble room that looked like New York but was probably nowhere near it. He’d spent the first hour, or maybe day as there was no way to know, trying to escape, searching for a way out, searching for hidden doors or ceiling panels or vents, but found nothing. The room was completely empty aside from a bedroll in a corner. 

He fled to a balcony when he heard the staticy sound of the portal for the first time, vaguely recognizing the sound from his own arrival, and watched as a man was spit out of the wall. Another soldier, he immediately recognized, but from a very different war. He watched in silence as the army had trained him to, and watched nervously as the larger man punched a stone wall with a metal arm. It didn’t take long before number 2’s perimeter check took him to the balcony, and he recognized number 1’s face as his own. 

The place began to fill up, versions of Bucky coming from dozens of universes, with new bits of furniture and media materializing along with them into the lounge. The Steves started coming a bit later and it wasn’t long before they had worked out the rules and figured out the exit portal. His Steve never came though, and he stopped paying attention after the first 10, retreating to the balcony instead.

There was no food in the station, but there didn’t seem to be hunger or thirst either, so he wasn’t concerned. He had tried to sleep, but found he was unable to, meditating to pass the time instead. He sat in the shadows, leaning against the wall while he listened. He heard all the portals, and the screaming and confusion of each new arrival, the stories about the others and the lives he could have had. He tried to block out the happy reunions. 

He only saw one thing though, when he closed his eyes. His final glimpse of Steve, reaching out to try to save him as he fell, as the train shrank away in the distance, and then looping back to Steve’s face again when it should have gone black. When he should have died. 

Eventually, he had no idea how much time had actually passed, if any, the station grew quieter. 70 was the last version of himself to arrive, followed only by Steves until once again he was alone. 

When he heard the familiar mechanical whirring sound again, he refused to believe it was real. He waited for the expected shout and crash that generally went along with the arrival of a Steve, but heard nothing. After a long moment, he opened his eyes and moved to peer down from the rafters to the archway, and saw the blue light of the portal fade away. 

“Hello?” called a voice, sounding shaky and weak. 

Number One stayed in the shadows as he made his way down from the balcony, and saw an old man, leaning on a cane as he glanced around. 

“Is anyone here?” He called again, taking a few small steps away from the wall. 

Slowly, Number One stood, and walked through the archway, still afraid to believe that it was really his turn. The man stared as he walked, smiling as Number One got closer. 

“Bucky?” He asked. “You look exactly how I remember.”

“Steve.” Number One started, finding him at a loss for words as he searched for the Steve he remembered in the face in front of him. 

“I got old, Buck.” Steve said, reaching a hand out. “It took 200 years, and a great great grandson of Howard Stark to do it, but I finally managed to become an old man.”

“So you were immortal,” Bucky replied with a nod. “I always wondered about that.”

“The serum,” Steve confirmed. “Turns out there was no limit to its healing abilities. I tried.”

Bucky took a step forward, and took Steves hand in his, frowning at him. 

“200 years, Buck,” Steve repeated. “I went to more funerals than I care to think about, and eventually, all I wanted was my own.”

Bucky stayed quiet, reaching out to touch Steve's cheek, still searching for familiarity in the face in front of him, and finally pulling him into a hug. 

“I didn’t think I would ever get to see you again.” Bucky said, voice shaky and muffled in Steve's shoulder. 

They stood for what felt like a long time, holding each other in silence. Bucky was the first to pull away, looking at Steve with a sad smile.  
“Ready to go?” He asked. 

“Where are we going?” Steve replied, looking around. 

“I don’t actually know,” Bucky admitted with a small shrug. “To whatever’s next for us.” 

He took Steves hand and led him into the small room with the empty gold frame, directing him to place his hand on the wall next to his own. 

For the last time, the humming noise began and the portal swirled open, allowing Steve and Bucky to pass through, and then closed again. Slowly, the station turned dark, and then with a faint pop, disappeared from existence having served its purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge hugs and thank you to everyone who cheered me on to finish writing this fic over th past through months, especially to Paalme for doing an amazing job beta reading and finding all my typos, and Krycek for their amazing art!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at [ Kaiwrites ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kaiwrites)


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